


Visitors

by orphan_account



Series: An Unlikely Pair [5]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Angst, Blood Drinking, Bottoming from the Top, Drunkenness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gore, M/M, Mind Control, Rimming, Vampire Merlin, Werewolf Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2013-11-18
Packaged: 2018-01-01 21:49:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which three years have passed, Arthur learns the hard way that forever is a long time, and a visiting coven causes unexpected problems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Visitors

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone interested, there's [more content/background information](http://neuroticnick.livejournal.com/51037.html) about this verse on Livejournal.
> 
> Thanks to [messyangel81](http://messyangel81.livejournal.com/) for the beta.

Arthur’s heart was like a pounding drum in Merlin’s ears, his heavy breath like a symphony of sighs. His back was arched in the most lovely display of wanton need that Merlin was sure he’d never get tired of seeing, his head thrown back as Merlin pressed icy hot kisses down his golden torso.

It was all very poetically romantic until _someone_ interrupted with three loud bangs on the door.

Merlin growled into Arthur’s stomach, which only caused Arthur to shudder at the sensation and attempt to hold Merlin’s head down for more.

“Go away, Edwin!” Merlin shouted, knowing the vampire waiting outside could hear him. Arthur was quivering beneath him now, his heels digging into the back of Merlin’s calves.

“It’s important, Merlin! Let me in.”

Merlin ignored him in favour of briefly sucking the head of Arthur’s cock. Arthur’s gasp turned into a whimpering moan. Edwin only knocked harder.

“Go...away...blond leech,” Arthur panted.

“Don’t make me break the door, Merlin! You know I wouldn’t be here unless it was serious.”

Merlin growled again and reluctantly pulled away, despite Arthur’s protests. But dammit, Edwin was right. He wouldn’t interrupt them if it wasn’t important.

Merlin moved through the flat with vampiric speed to open the door. Edwin entered and Merlin shut the door behind him.

“What is it?” Merlin asked, glaring daggers at him.

“Morgause.”

Merlin blinked. “I’m sorry, is that name supposed to mean something to me? I’ve met more than a few people in the last four centuries. Easy to forget, you know.”

Edwin’s eyes glanced at the door to the bedroom and back again. “Maybe you ought to come to the lounge so we can talk about this. Gwen wants to—”

“You can tell me here. You know Arthur can be trusted.”

Arthur chose that moment to come walking into the living room. He was still shirtless, but had put joggers on. He looked just as annoyed as Merlin.

Edwin pursed his lips as he considered. “Alright, well, I know you remember this name: Alator.”

Merlin unconsciously clenched his jaw as he mentally swore. Maybe it was best Arthur not be here for this conversation after all.

“Now you see why we should go to the lounge? Gwen wants to talk to you. I’m sure you know why.”

Merlin only thought for a moment before deciding. He retrieved his shirt from the bedroom and returned as Arthur asked Edwin, “Who’s Alator?”

Merlin pulled his shirt over his head and put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, love. I’ll be back soon, okay?”

He moved to put on his trainers before Arthur could try to grab his wrist and stop him. That didn’t stop Arthur from vocally protesting, though.

“What? You can’t just—what happened to no more secrets?” he yelled.

Merlin felt a twinge of pain in the spot where his heart lay dormant. “There are...some things you’re better off not knowing.”

“You can’t even tell me who this person is?”

“He’s like...your Leon,” Edwin said before Merlin could reply. “A mentor of sorts. From when Merlin first turned.”

Merlin glared at Edwin, but grudgingly agreed that was the only suitable explanation, considering Arthur’s ignorance. “Yeah. Mentor. Right then, let us go.”

Merlin did his best to ignore Arthur’s pained expression as he closed the door behind him.

****

Gwen was the one who finally said it.

“Alator is dead. Sarrum staked him nearly three weeks ago.”

Merlin stopped breathing. It was true he hadn’t liked the vampire much at first, but over the years they’d become almost friends. More than acquaintances, anyways. And he owed Alator his life; it was him that sent Edwin out to save him from the mob in the first place.

“And Alator’s coven?” Merlin asked, certain that was why Gwen wanted him here. “Who leads his coven now?”

“Morgause,” Edwin repeated the name. “She was the blond one. Called you a savage when I first took you to meet Alator, remember?”

Merlin nodded. Now he remembered. He had bared his fangs at her. But now that he was older and wiser, he could recognise that that was indeed what he had been: a savage young vampire making it hard for Alator’s coven to remain undetected in the London streets. He hadn’t heard of her since the last time he’d gone to visit them, and even then they had only glared at each other.

“What’s the problem then?” Merlin asked.

“She’s coming to visit,” Gwen replied.

Merlin snorted. “ _Friends_ visit. We are not friends with them.”

“We were friends with some of them. They’ve always been our allies,” Gwen chided. “And we are a small group. It makes sense that they wish to stay with us a while instead of with Bayard or Annis as they pass through.”

“Can’t we just sort of...I don’t know, send them on their way? Tell them there are already too many damn vampires in this city and they’ll be attracting more attention than we need?” Merlin suggested.

“That’s what I said,” Edwin told him. “But Gwen thinks they might take offence. We’ll just have to cut down on feeding ourselves and risk it. Besides, you have Freya, Gwen has Sefa. It’s only me, Nimmie, and Mordred that have to practise a bit of restraint.”

Merlin snorted again. “Good luck telling that to Mordred. And anyways, what happened to Kara? Wasn’t she his thrall, or did he let her go?”

Gwen folded her hands in her lap and Merlin dreaded whatever it was she had to say. Gwen only did that when she was preparing herself for relaying painful information.

“Mordred...developed feelings for the human girl,” she said sadly. “He released her mind because he wanted her to love him sincerely. However, she...”

Merlin scoffed. “Of course. What did he expect?”

“Well, his father hasn’t exactly been around to tell him any better,” Edwin snapped.

The flare of anger Merlin felt was quickly overshadowed by a wave of guilt. He’d been ashamed of creating Mordred—even Gwen had called Mordred an abomination—and it was true he hadn’t been a very good father. But Mordred wasn’t particularly keen on accepting Merlin’s help either.

“He killed her,” Gwen announced. “And after a brief period of despondency, he’s been taking his anger out rather childishly. He will be hard to control when Morgause arrives.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Merlin asked. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t visited the lounge regularly, and it wasn’t unusual for Mordred to be absent when he did. Still, Merlin thought someone would have said something if Mordred was causing problems.

“Personally, I wanted to drag him to your doorstep and demand you discipline him,” Edwin remarked bitterly. “Gwen said that would only put the mortals in your building in danger.”

“And what would you have done, Merlin?” Gwen asked. Merlin started to answer, but Gwen shook her head and silenced him. “We both know that you are ill-equipped for something like this. And whatever you might have said, Mordred would simply disobey to spite you.”

Merlin could’ve argued that he could torture Mordred, that that was often how vampires made their offspring realise their folly. But Merlin didn’t wish to be responsible for Mordred. He didn’t know why Gwen even bothered calling him Mordred’s father at all. He’d done nothing to deserve the title.

He sighed. “When is Morgause arriving?”

“Tomorrow,” Edwin answered.

“Brilliant.” Gwen was still frowning and fidgeting her hands in her lap. It was clear she had more to say. “What else?”

“Morgause is...not as tolerant as Alator. They’ve had trouble with werewolves in the past.”

Another ache throbbed deep in Merlin’s chest. “Oh.” His mind shot off in a thousand directions at once but he tried to focus on one point at a time. “How will it affect our standing with the pack if one of the vampires misbehaves? They will be associated with us, after all.”

“I’ve spoken to Leon about it already,” Gwen said. “He understands that we can’t always control our brethren, and that we don’t all share the same beliefs. If one of Morgause’s coven initiates an attack, our treaty will not be affected.”

“And Morgause? If the werewolves fight back and she asks why we aren’t aiding her?”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. But if it should, I will explain that we’ve had a long-standing agreement with the pack that we do not wish to break. You will take Arthur and leave the city until it’s safe to return.”

Merlin nodded. That sounded like as good an idea as any, though he didn’t think Morgause would react well to the news.

“Well, I think you should stay away from Arthur, to be safe,” Edwin added. “Or at least advise him to—”

“No.”

“They’ll smell him on you!”

Merlin grit his teeth. “There has to be another way. I can...I can say I work at the hospital with him.”

Edwin shook his head. “It smells like you do a lot more than just work with him. They’ll know right away.”

“Then we just won’t—”

“Right,” Edwin chuckled. “Because that’ll happen.”

If Merlin could blush, he would have. “Then what would _you_ suggest, Edwin?” he bit out.

“Leave the city before they get here,” Edwin said and shrugged. “Better for everyone involved.”

“You want me to run and hide? Just because they’re the ones that can’t accept who I’m with? If it comes to a fight between the pack and their coven, fine. I’ll take Arthur if it means keeping him safe. But I will _not_ run away before they even get here.”

“Merlin,” Gwen nudged gently. Merlin knew his eyes had gone black with anger. The tone in her voice hinted that he should calm down. But Merlin didn’t want to calm down.

“If you show up here smelling like dog, they’ll take offence,” Edwin countered. “You know what Morgause thinks of you already. You want to give her another reason to hate you? Your little affair with this mutt will put all of us at risk!”

Before Merlin could stop himself, he snarled and lunged. He heard Gwen shouting his name as if she was far away, but focused only on ripping out Edwin’s throat. His nails had torn through Edwin’s flesh by the time Gwen finally managed to restrain him.

“Merlin,” she repeated, this time firmly. She squeezed Merlin’s arms hard enough for her own nails to draw blood. “Stop.”

Merlin grit his teeth and stopped struggling against her. Gwen let him go as Edwin started getting to his feet. He clenched his fists and glared at Edwin, wordlessly waiting for him to say something.

Edwin glanced at Gwen then looked down and picked at his shredded shirt as he spoke. “I apologise for calling Arthur a mutt. That was...uncalled for.”

Satisfied, Merlin moved to leave, but Gwen grabbed his arm again and stopped him. She cleared her throat meaningfully.

“I suppose I’m sorry I tried to kill you,” Merlin said through clenched teeth.

“Leave us, Edwin,” Gwen ordered. Edwin left and she motioned for Merlin to sit. “Nobody wants you to feel you have to hide your relationship with Arthur, Merlin. _They_ might feel like you should, but they do not want _you_ to feel as such.”

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Yes, it does. We care about you, Merlin. We do not want to hurt you, but we also want what is best for all of us. If going somewhere with Arthur is the best way to ensure our safety, then that is what I’d suggest.”

“ _Is_ that what you suggest?”

“They only plan on staying about a month. I realise things are different since you and Arthur started living together three years ago. His scent is so much a part of you even Mordred has gotten used to it. But to them it will be strong.”

Merlin had become so accustomed to Arthur’s scent he barely noticed it anymore. And since Arthur had mastered nearly all his wolf tricks, he didn’t go to the pack’s warehouse much. Still, he could clearly remember how bad a stench it was at first.

“Morgause knows we are not as tight-knit a coven as hers, that we each have our own separate lives outside our group. If you come by only once or twice a week during their stay, she will understand.”

“So you want me to be completely Arthur-free on the nights I come in?” Merlin asked.

“The day before, I want you to sleep at your thrall’s home. Feed from her, get her scent on you, and come here for the night. When you leave, you can return home to Arthur, until it is time to repeat the process.”

It was a good plan, though Merlin hated the thought of sleeping away from Arthur. They hadn’t slept apart in more than three years. It wasn’t long given the span of both their lifetimes, but it was enough that they’d both feel the loss.

Merlin pursed his lips and nodded. “Alright. I suppose that’s the best compromise.”

****

It was nearly five in the morning when Merlin got back. He walked in just as Arthur’s wolf ears shifted into his normal ones. Arthur had been on the sofa listening for him.

“There’s blood on your shirt!” he exclaimed, getting to his feet. “What the hell?”

Merlin glanced down. “Oh. It’s not mine.” He looked at his sleeves where Gwen’s nails had dug in and made crescents of blood appear. “Well, some of it is. But it’s nothing.”

“Is that supposed to reassure me? That blood—only some of which is yours—on your shirt, qualifies as nothing?”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “We’re vampires, blood is a thing that happens. For all you know I could have gotten messy eating on the way home.”

“I’ve seen you feed.” Arthur crossed his arms. “You’re not messy.”

“No. I’m not.” Merlin sighed and tossed his keys on the worktop. “Edwin and I had a bit of a disagreement. I...attacked him.”

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s his blood then?”

Merlin chuckled, glad Arthur didn’t seem angry over that, at least. “Yes.”

“What did he say? If I’m even allowed to ask, that is.”

There went Merlin’s chance for a good mood. “He called you a mutt.”

Arthur shook his head. “That’s it? You wouldn’t have gone after him just for that.”

Merlin toed off his shoes and sighed again. “It’s a long story. Can I tell you tomorrow?”

Arthur narrowed his eyes suspiciously but relented. He obviously didn’t like it but saw Merlin was tired of the whole thing and just wanted to relax.

Merlin smiled gratefully and was at Arthur’s side in the blink of an eye to take his hand. “Can we go to bed?” he asked softly.

Arthur tilted his head curiously and Merlin laughed at how similar the action looked to his wolf form. “There’s not much longer until sunrise. And I’m still mad at you for earlier, you know,” he added with a stern finger.

“No, I know. I didn’t mean that kind of going to bed. I just...” Merlin lowered his eyes, and would have blushed again if he could.

Thankfully, Arthur understood. “Oh. Wow, what the hell did they say to you?” he asked, bringing a hand up to Merlin’s cheek.

Merlin let his eyes fall closed so he could focus on the sensation of Arthur’s touch. As he spoke, Arthur’s arm slid around his waist and pulled him closer. “Just...the usual things. That it’s dangerous for us and by extension dangerous for them. I know they’re right, and I...I hate it. I don’t want to think about it. I want to forget everything and...”

Merlin trailed off and let Arthur’s hand guide his face into his neck. He finally let his body relax completely and melt into Arthur. Arthur was getting really good at knowing when he just wanted to be held.

Arthur bent and picked Merlin up with an arm under his knees. “Alright, to bed we go, sweetheart. But don’t think this means you’re forgiven.”

Merlin smiled into Arthur’s skin as Arthur carried him. “Of course not.”

****

Merlin decided he’d go back to the lounge on the third day of the visiting coven’s arrival. In the meantime, he went to work and explained the situation to Arthur when they got home.

Which was easier said than done. He had thought over what he might say the whole drive back and started pacing the minute they got inside. Arthur waited patiently on the arm of the sofa.

“Alright, so, you know how Edwin said Alator is sort of like Leon?” he began, finally.

“Yeah...”

“Wait. No, that was a bad way to start.” Merlin bit his thumb. Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Any day now, Merlin.”

“Alator is...Well, you know how I was...” Hmm. How best to say this?

“When you were like Mordred and fed from anything with a pulse?” Arthur supplied.

“Yes! Yes. Alator was...Edwin, he...”

“ _Merlin_. Just start from the beginning.”

Merlin stopped pacing. “The beginning?”

“Well, whenever this guy comes up in relation to when you were first turned.”

“I was almost a century old. Ninety-seven, maybe.”

“So start there. What happened when you were ninety-seven?”

Merlin cringed at the memory of being surrounded by fire and the mob’s horrific voices. Arthur’s keen eyes caught the motion. Merlin _never_ cringed. Not if he could help it.

“I was feeding too much, and...leaving bodies out in the open. There was a mob that got together to hunt me down and...and they caught me in a trap and there was fire everywhere,” Merlin said, wringing his hands. “I thought I was going to die. But then Edwin came and saved me. He took me to Alator and...well, from there it was sort of like with the pack. His coven taught me things and every so often I’d go back to visit them after travelling for a while.”

Merlin looked up to see how Arthur would react to the news. It didn’t seem to trouble him too much that his vampire boyfriend had been hunted down by a mob in the 1700s. If it did bother him, he didn’t show it. Merlin felt much better now that the worst was behind him.

Arthur prompted him to continue. “Okay. And Morgause? Who’s that?”

“When Edwin brought me in, a few of them didn’t really like me. They just knew me as some uncivilised young vampire that was making life hard for them. Morgause was the most vocal about her opinion.”

“What does she have to do with anything now? Is she...” Arthur seemed to piece it together himself.

Merlin nodded. “Yes. She’s coming to visit the city on her way east. But the worst of it is, Alator died, leaving Morgause as the coven’s new leader.”

“Ah. She already hates you, and now I’m going to make her hate you even more.”

“I wish that was it. She hates _all_ werewolves. Just the fact that our coven has come to peace with a pack at all makes things complicated. If she finds out about us it could threaten our inter-coven alliance.”

Arthur rubbed his temples. “No wonder you didn’t want to think about this. What are we going to do?”

“I have to sleep at Freya’s the day before I go to the lounge so that I won’t smell like you.”

“You have to what?”

Merlin put his hands up. “I know! But what else am I supposed to do?”

“Oh, I dunno, _don’t go_?”

“I have to. Morgause knows I live in the city. And I’m second-in-command of the coven. It’d be considered rude not to.”

Arthur snorted. “Hard to believe there’s such a thing as vampire etiquette. Sounds to me like she just wants to see how the uncivilised young vampire is doing these days.”

Merlin sighed. “I expect that’s part of it as well. She’s always been a right bitch.”

Arthur made a sour expression to show how much he didn’t like it. “When does she get here?”

“They arrived yesterday. They’re all at the lounge now.”

“When do _you_ have to go?”

“Gwen said I only have to show my face once or twice a week while they’re here. I was going to go tomorrow night.”

Arthur tilted his head. “That means you have to go to Freya’s by the end of tonight in order to sleep there during the day.” Merlin nodded solemnly. Arthur consulted his wristwatch. “It’s nearly three. Sunrise is in about three more hours.”

Merlin laughed. “You want to finish what Edwin interrupted yesterday.” It wasn’t a question, and Arthur gave him a wolfish grin as he stood and pushed Merlin by the hips to the bedroom. “Does this mean I’m forgiven, then?”

“As long as you do that lovely thing with your tongue, yes.”

****

Arthur’s heart was like a pounding drum in Merlin’s ears, his heavy breath like a symphony of sighs. His back was arched in the most lovely display of wanton need that Merlin was sure he’d never get tired of seeing, and his head thrown back as Merlin pressed icy hot kisses down his golden torso. Finally, Merlin reached the curve of Arthur’s pelvis and slowly licked up the swollen cock jutting out of the centre.

No matter how many times Merlin did this for Arthur, Arthur always gasped when Merlin took him in. Merlin pressed the flat of his tongue to the underside and dragged it across the surface as he came up and went back down. He could _taste_ Arthur beneath the skin, the earthy essence with just a hint of werewolf blood.

But werewolf blood wasn’t appealing. Merlin pulled off with a loud smack and licked his way steadily down. Arthur shook beneath him, moaning when Merlin raised his arse to spread his cheeks and plunge his tongue inside.

The scent and taste was perfect here; pure, unbloodied Arthur. Merlin pushed his thumbs in to stretch it a bit wider, for his tongue to go deeper. He left the rim just tight enough to close around the wet muscle, so Arthur would feel it fucking him all the better.

He heard the slide of skin on skin as Arthur stroked his cock. He swatted Arthur’s hand away instead of removing his tongue to speak. Merlin didn’t want Arthur to come just yet. He wanted Arthur to fuck him first, he wanted to know that just hours before meeting with some big-headed coven leader he’d have had werewolf semen inside him.

“M-Merlin,” Arthur moaned. “Merlin—ah—please, oh God, _please_!”

Merlin pulled away, sucking a final kiss to the wet hole, before moving quickly to get the lube from the nightstand. “Fuck me tonight, Arthur? I’ll fuck you next time.”

Arthur seemed to pout a moment. True, it wasn’t exactly fair for Merlin to tease that way with his tongue, as if promising more, but Arthur had asked for that. Merlin raised a suggestive eyebrow, the one Arthur knew meant “Really? We’ve got all eternity and you’re pouting about not getting fucked this one time?” So Arthur nodded and Merlin straddled his body, lubing his arse and Arthur's cock quickly before sliding slowly down onto it.

As soon as Arthur was fully buried, he rolled them over and returned to Merlin’s lips. “How did you want it tonight, sweetheart?” he asked breathlessly.

“Slow and hard. If you think you can manage that, _sweetheart_.”

Arthur dragged his cock out slowly before snapping his hips forward hard. A loud “ah, yes!” erupted from Merlin’s mouth as his hands curled in Arthur’s hair.

“Th-that is definitely satisfactory,” Merlin choked out.

Arthur chuckled and rolled his hips again. “Glad I could satisfy the gentleman,” he teased.

“Oh my God, shut up, you prat.” He dug his heel into Arthur’s arse and urged him on. Finally, Arthur started fucking him in earnest, slow and hard just like Merlin had asked. The force of Arthur’s thrusts shook the bed.

But Merlin could tell it was difficult for Arthur to finish like this. Every time Arthur fought the urge to speed up, he bit harder into Merlin’s neck. It wouldn’t be a problem as long as Arthur’s fangs didn’t come out.

Merlin rolled them over again, laughing at the lost look in Arthur’s eye. His laughter was short-lived, however, when Arthur thrust his pelvis up and hit the perfect spot inside him. After that, Merlin worked his hips down at the same angle to hit it over and over again, massaging it so slowly he felt pleasure sing through his body in waves. When he went too slowly, Arthur thrust again and forced a startled whimper from him. The last time Arthur did it, he repeated it in rapid succession until Merlin felt tension in every muscle of his body and came with loud sob.

“I said—oh!” Arthur rolled them over a final time and straightened his spine so he could fuck Merlin on his knees. “I said slow and hard!”

“Ah, but Merlin, your arse wanted it fast and rough.” He clutched Merlin’s thighs and began to fuck at his own rigorous speed.

Merlin put his arms over his head to hold the headboard, careful not to grip too tight and warp the metal. Arthur was right, of course. Merlin loved it fast. He loved everything fast and just hard enough to be a little dangerous. But sometimes he wanted slow, too. Times like tonight when he wanted the warmth of Arthur’s love to breathe some life back into his dead body. Times when he wanted to be held tightly and fucked hard like it was their last night together. He didn’t want the memory of just another quick toss in the sheets to be the one he took with him to the lounge the next night.

It wasn’t all bad, though, Merlin supposed. Arthur had gone slow as long as he could and Merlin had come in the end. If Arthur wanted to drive his hips into Merlin and growl while biting his lip in that sexy way he sometimes did...Merlin wasn’t one to complain. He just wrapped his legs around Arthur’s waist to keep them from flailing about and went along for the ride.

And then, finally, Arthur slowed again as he came. He snapped his hips forward twice more—hard, forceful thrusts that left his come deep inside Merlin—before sliding out just as slowly and reluctantly.

“Oh _God_ , Arthur,” Merlin moaned as he felt Arthur’s come leaking from him.

Arthur collapsed beside him. “Are you even allowed to say that?” he asked breathlessly. “I mean obviously, because you just did, but...I’ve always wondered. And you don’t say it often.”

Merlin looked at him, confused. “Say what?”

“God.”

Merlin burst into laughter. “You’ll have to forgive me, I’m not exactly religious. And I thought we dispelled the rumours about our species when we first got together.”

Arthur shrugged. “Not all of them. Some things I just haven’t got around to asking.”

Merlin sat up and looked down at Arthur curiously. “Huh.” He ran to the living room to check the time and came back before Arthur could notice his absence. “I suppose I’ll tell you some things while I get dressed.”

****

“What’s the frown for?” Merlin asked as he zipped his jeans.

“If you can’t enter a church...well, what if I wanted to get married?”

Merlin had to fight the urge to laugh. It obviously meant a lot to Arthur and laughing wouldn’t exactly be appreciated.

“Marriage is for mortals. Their customs don’t apply to us because we don’t have their inferiorities.” Merlin moved on to the buttons of his shirt.

“Inferiorities?”

“You know, their life spans and whatnot.”

By the look on Arthur’s face, Merlin could tell that had been the wrong thing to say. He mentally kicked himself for his carelessness. Even after three years it was hard to remember how much Arthur still considered himself connected with the living.

Luckily, Arthur shook it off, or at least realised they didn’t have the time and put it on hold for later. Merlin straightened up. “Do I look okay?”

Arthur snorted. “For not being able to see your reflection, you vampires always look remarkably good.”

Merlin smiled. “It’s an art form.” He went to Arthur’s side—once again glad that his speed no longer irked Arthur—and kissed him before turning back to the door. Arthur’s hand stopped him.

“You’ve never...There was something else I’ve always wondered. I’d thought maybe you’d tell me eventually but you’ve never brought it up,” Arthur began.

“What is it?”

“I know you died in 1665 from the plague, and that’s when you turned, but...who—”

“I don’t know,” Merlin said abruptly. “I was about to die, I felt a sting on my wrist, and the next thing I knew, my throat was on fire from thirst. There was...there was nobody else there.”

Merlin took a step to leave, but Arthur tightened his hold again.

“What?” Merlin asked, irritated. The last thing he wanted was to have this conversation.

“What do you mean there was nobody? If it wasn’t Gwen or Edwin, and now not even Alator—”

“I told you, I was nearly a century old when I met Edwin and Alator. I’d already been dead seventy years. And I was friends with Gwen when I was still human, but she’s not the one that turned me. It was a man, that’s all I know.”

“How?”

“He said something to me before he turned me. I can’t remember what, but it was definitely a man’s voice.” Merlin yanked his hand free, determined to leave. “It doesn’t matter anyways. If I ever meet him again, I’ll kill him.”

Merlin left before Arthur could say anything to detain him any longer. The sun would be rising soon.

****

“Would you like to feed before you go out tonight, Master?” Freya asked when he woke up hours later.

Merlin cracked his toes and fingers and got out of bed. The title still unnerved him but he’d found it was worse when she called him Merlin. After a year of “master” he’d simply ordered her to call him by his name, but then he felt guilty for that and changed the order to “call me what you want.” So “master” it was to always be.

“Yes, thank you, Freya.” She moved to take off her jeans but Merlin put a hand up to stop her. “Just your shirt is fine. I’m on a bit of a time-line tonight.”

“Of course, Master.” She bowed her head and began undoing the buttons on her shirt as Merlin went to get dressed in the new clothes she’d bought him at his request.

Once dressed, he moved to stand behind her. It was more comfortable like that, less awkward when her body went limp and she fell. He slid one bra strap down her shoulder and tilted her head for better access to the bulging vein. She reached up to tuck her long hair behind her ear and pulled a few loose strands out of his way helpfully.

It was always different feeding from a willing victim. Freya’s body always tensed up the moment she felt him leaning in, and her heart always hammered in her chest when the tips of his fangs made the first contact. It wasn’t anything like coming upon someone unaware in the shadows. Even if she was offering only as his thrall, it was so much more satisfying sinking his teeth into willing flesh, that despite tense muscles and racing heart she gave this to him.

Variety was good. It wasn’t in any vampire’s nature to feed from one person alone. But Freya had always had a special taste, like a rare sweet dessert wine. It was always hard for Merlin to stop himself from bleeding her dry. Her blood on his tongue, down his throat, was something he’d miss when she eventually died.

Almost half a minute after she went limp, Merlin pulled reluctantly away and laid her down on the bed. He’d feed again on the way. The thing about Freya was that she was sometimes like a fizzy drink: she tasted good but also made him more thirsty after a while.

By the time he arrived at the lounge, he was certain he’d immersed himself in so many human smells there wasn’t a whiff of werewolf on him. As he opened the hidden door in the stone wall, he wondered what Arthur was doing.

Gwen was in her best gown and smiled radiantly when she noticed Merlin. “Here he is!” she announced with a grand gesture in his direction.

Morgause hadn’t changed much, though she wore her hair to fit the time period. Her makeup wasn’t as heavy as the last time he’d seen her, but her eyes considered him with just as much contempt.

“Hello, Merlin,” she said, voice cold and deceptively friendly all at once.

“Morgause. A pleasure, as always.” Neither offered to shake hands. Merlin directed his attention instead to her newly acquired following. “Alator’s death was unfortunate, but I see you’ve managed well so far without him. How many?”

“We lost two in the same attack that took Alator from us, but gained one as we travelled here. We are now seven.”

Merlin looked them over. Seven. If it came to a battle between them...

One man caught Merlin’s eye, and Merlin saw the man was studying him back just as critically. He had dull black hair slicked back, a few stubborn strands falling in front of his eyes, and held himself with the air of a weary traveller, clearly not the type of vampire that liked to settle down a few decades at a time. He had enough grey in his hair and beard to suggest he’d been middle-aged when he was turned.

Merlin was immediately suspicious of the obvious newcomer.

“That makes us twelve in all,” Merlin said. “With two other covens who have nearly that much each in this very same city. I’m sure Gwen has cautioned you already.”

“Of course,” Morgause replied sweetly. “We don’t wish to threaten anyone’s existence. We come as friends.”

“And we are honoured to have you in our home,” Gwen added.

Nimueh appeared at the top of the stairs. Someone had braided her hair and pinned it up on top of her head. She seemed to glow beneath the lights of the candles.

“Merlin.” She beckoned him with a finger. “There’s something that needs your attention.”

Merlin’s brow furrowed. He excused himself and followed her to the lounge kitchens. Merlin sighed because what he saw could only be the work of one annoyingly misbehaved young vampire.

There was blood on nearly every surface, dripping thickly from worktop edges onto the tiled floor. Various body parts were scattered about, with sprinklings of bone fragments littered near the torn limbs. Six severed heads were piled in the furnace on the far side of the room.

“Where is he?” Merlin asked. Nimueh pointed to where Edwin had Mordred restrained in a corner.

Merlin navigated the bloodied floor. “Who were they?” he asked Nimueh without looking at her.

“Gwen had several thralls created for Morgause’s visit. People from all kinds of backgrounds that might appeal to their tastes.”

Mordred glared at Merlin and Merlin glared right back. Merlin finally addressed him. “Why?”

“Why not?”

Merlin clenched his fists. A couple centuries ago he would have responded the same. He had had Alator to tell him the answer. Mordred had no one, because Merlin had been too ashamed by his existence to pay him much mind. But this was his responsibility. Any mess Mordred made, Merlin would have to clean up and Mordred knew it.

Merlin stepped closer, seeing with approval that Edwin’s hands held tighter in case Mordred tried something. “If too many people go missing or turn up dead, the mortals will start noticing. When they start noticing, they’ll start theorising and hypothesising, and when enough crazy people think ‘hey, maybe vampires exist’ there will be war. There won’t be a safe place for us, all because one heartbroken little vampling didn’t see a problem with killing a few thralls. _That’s_ why not.”

Someone cleared their throat behind him and when Merlin turned to look he saw Morgause standing in the doorway with a hideous smirk.

“Now that’s quite ironic, don’t you think, Merlin?” she said, stepping over the pink mush of entrails. “This sort of scene you should be all too familiar with, though, I’m sure.”

Merlin glared at her but remained silent as she approached.

“Hello again, Mordred. I haven’t seen much of you in the three days I’ve been here.” Morgause looked around the kitchen with hungry eyes. “This is some predicament you’ve gone and got yourself into.”

Mordred just bared his fangs at her, letting his eyes go black.

“Is there anything in particular you wanted, Morgause?” Merlin asked. “We’re a bit busy, as you can see.”

“I’m told you’re the one who created this,” she replied, gesturing to Mordred. “I, personally, would have destroyed it the minute I realised what I’d done.”

It wasn’t as if Merlin hadn’t thought of that a million times already. But in the end, he couldn’t. Mordred didn’t deserve to live undead for eternity, but neither did he deserve to die. It was a decision Merlin would rather not make.

“Why don’t you?” Morgause continued. “Look at the poor thing. It’d be putting him out of his misery.”

“If I want advice on how to handle my son, I’ll ask for it,” Merlin snapped.

Morgause smiled sweetly. “Only trying to help. If I recall correctly, you never had a father, even as a human. It seems to me you need all the help you can get.”

Gwen’s voice cut off any reply Merlin could have made. “Oh!” she exclaimed from the doorway.

Sefa, ever loyal, sprung into action. “I’ll clean this right away, my Lady!”

Gwen could tell right away what happened considering Edwin’s hold on Mordred. She narrowed her eyes disapprovingly. “Merlin, I think we should speak privately. Now.”

****

Merlin couldn’t wait to get home. He hated Morgause, he hated Mordred, he hated the whole stupid visiting coven—especially the stranger that kept giving him funny looks—and he hated having to be pleasant in front of them all. It was part blessing and part curse to have Mordred finally taken out of his care.

“Mordred is no longer your responsibility, Merlin,” Gwen had said. “From now on, I personally will see to it that he is disciplined. If he does something like this again, I will not hesitate to kill him, regardless of whether or not he’s your son.”

Merlin had simply nodded, glad to be free of the burden.

He was almost to his flat when he heard someone call his name. He looked over his shoulder and saw it was the middle-aged vampire that wouldn’t quit looking at him. He reluctantly tried to be as civil as he could.

“Hello,” he said and smiled.

“Hi. I’m afraid we were never properly introduced.” The vampire held out his hand and Merlin shook it. “I’m Balinor.”

Merlin frowned. The name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it. “Have we met before? I feel like I’ve heard of you.”

“I...sort of. I think we may have a few mutual acquaintances.”

Merlin nodded. It was common enough among their kind. “Was there something you needed? It’s nearly an hour ‘til sunrise. I was just on my way home, myself.” But Balinor had to know that, because Merlin had announced he was going home before he left.

“No, nothing serious. I was just hoping I could get to know you better during my stay here. We could go for a drink sometime.” Balinor’s lips twitched, obviously amused at the private joke.

Merlin, however, was not in the laughing mindset. What Balinor was proposing wasn’t odd, by any means. Vampires weren’t one to discriminate based on appearances, because to them age really _was_ just a number. Someone that looked fifteen could be two centuries old, and someone of Balinor’s appearance could be only seventy. That didn’t mean Merlin was interested, though.

“Um.” Merlin thought of how best to phrase the rejection. “I’m flattered but, you see, I’m sort of already, er, in a relationship.”

“You...what? Oh!” Balinor laughed. “No, no, no, you misunderstand. I didn’t mean anything like that. Simply as friends, of course.” He laughed so hard that he doubled over.

“Friends. Right.” Merlin nodded warily. Balinor was weird. He didn’t like him. “I’ll be coming again next week. I’ll see you then, alright?”

Balinor seemed to deflate at the dismissal, but he took it well. “Next week, then. Goodbye, Merlin.”

“Bye.”

Merlin turned and flitted the rest of the way home. After a night of obnoxious vampires he wanted to just relax with Arthur and forget the outside world existed.

****

“That does not look like the face of someone who’s had a good night.”

Merlin crossed the living room and fell into Arthur’s lap. “That’s because it was a terrible night.”

“Does that mean you don’t want to talk about it?”

“That means Morgause is still a cunt and Mordred is probably going to die sometime in the near future, but I don’t really care.” Merlin kicked his shoes over the sofa and curled his legs in. Arthur’s arm wrapped around him comfortably. “How are things at the hospital?”

“Well, Elyan didn’t ask about you.”

“Of course he didn’t, I ordered him to ignore my absences.” Merlin had also ordered him to treat him as he always had in public and to give him a rise. Making one’s boss a thrall certainly had its advantages. “But you know what I mean. When do I get to officially call you Doctor Wolf?”

Arthur chuckled and played with Merlin’s hair idly. “I have to take another class and get some more hours but...soon. Definitely soon.”

Merlin smiled. “That’s good.”

“And you’re sure you still don’t want to go above being a porter?”

“Most days I feel like quitting altogether to be honest.”

“What happened to feeling like you were finally doing something good? Making a difference and all that?”

Merlin hummed. “Things change. I get bored. It happens.” Arthur frowned and Merlin reached up to try and smooth the lines in Arthur’s brow away. “What?”

“It’s just...Will that happen to me? I like helping these people and if one day I just get bored...”

Merlin snorted. “You’re much too noble for that. I’m...” Merlin waved his hand abstractly. “I’m just me. Even Byron said I was cynical and I was only about two hundred years old back then. I don’t know how anyone can stand me now.” Merlin cracked a smile. “Well. Edwin says I’ve been easier to be around since I started seeing you.”

Arthur tried to smile back but it didn’t quite work. Merlin sat up and cradled his cheek. “Now what?” he asked. He realised with horror what his words might have sounded like to Arthur. “I told you I'd never get bored of you, Arthur, I—”

“I know _that_ , idiot,” Arthur said, rolling his eyes. “It just isn’t exactly all hedonistic funtimes, is it? This whole eternity thing, I mean.”

Merlin chuckled. “Of course it isn’t. There’s always some war going on, and new drugs for kids to trip out on, and then there’s all these scientists saying the earth will be consumed by the sun, or religious freaks saying the apocalypse is coming. So there’s _that_ to look forward to, still being here at the end of the bloody _world_.”

“Merlin. You’re not exactly helping.”

Merlin tried a new approach. “What I’m trying to say is, you’ve still got me, yeah? When the time comes we can always go live on the moon. Although I wonder how that will work, what with your shifting being linked to—”

“Merlin, _shut up_ ,” Arthur said, laughing.

But there was something else Merlin felt he had to say. Something that certainly helped him when he remembered screaming victims of his past or thought he had nothing to look forward to before he met Arthur.

“Just one more thing, okay? Yes, the world sucks, and I’ve had the misfortune to have seen a lot of terrible things. Mortals never change, never learn. But you can’t think about that. If you dwell on the past, it’ll haunt you forever. If you worry about the future, you’ll forget about being happy now.”

Arthur frowned. “But is that…is that really all we have to look forward to? Is that what you’ve done? Just…floating through time on the outskirts of mortals’ history, trying to have fun and forget painful consequences?”

Merlin thought of the many years he’d lived before he met Arthur. There were loads of times he felt so bored with life that he had to fight the urge to tear his skin off. It had all felt meaningless every so often. He realised that over time, he’d simply gotten used to the travelling and filling his brain with knowledge, but for Arthur the thought of living forever was still frightening.

Merlin was still contemplating what to reply and feeling the effects of the sun rising when Arthur continued. “Is everything...our whole existence...Does it mean anything? Why live forever if nothing changes? Doesn’t just living for nothing but fun and amusement get boring eventually?”

Merlin tried to make him understand with a kiss. “What’s the first thing you think when I kiss you, Arthur?”

Arthur smiled. “That I don’t want you to stop.”

Merlin entwined their fingers. “That’s how we cope, then. I won’t lie to you: most immortals end up killing themselves. If you want to stop living one day, I’ll go with you. But in the meantime, keep that in mind, alright? Mortals only have their short lifetimes with the people they love. We have much longer. And it never has to go on forever. We always have a way out...if that’s what you want.”

The words were hard for Merlin to get out and he felt he was failing miserably at hiding the pain on his face, centuries’ worth of loneliness before Arthur had come along. Suicide hadn’t seemed like a terrible option a short while ago, but now that he had Arthur… He hoped that maybe when Arthur was older, the thought of eternity would seem less frightening.

Merlin’s eyelids were drooping as he struggled to stay awake just a bit longer. The curtains were closed so it was safe for him to sleep in the living room, but Arthur still hadn’t said anything and Merlin needed to hear his response.

Arthur squeezed Merlin’s hand. “I love you, Merlin. You're my mate for life, even at the end of the world.”

Merlin smiled and let his eyes close as he fell forward into Arthur’s chest.

****

“ _Are_ you going to quit?” Arthur asked as they changed in the locker room at work a few days later.

Merlin shrugged. “Maybe.” He looked around and lowered his voice to barely a whisper once he saw they weren’t alone. “Since Elyan is my thrall, I’ll probably just keep coming in whenever I feel like it.”

Arthur snorted. “Vampires. Always cheating the system.”

“Werewolves. Always thinking they’re better than the rest of us.”

Arthur kicked his locker shut. “You going to Freya’s again tonight?”

Merlin finished tying his shoes and stood up. “Yes. I’ve decided on doing the bare minimum, only showing my face once a week. They’re very weird.”

They went out into the corridor. “Is Gwen alright with that? It’s not considered rude or against some unwritten vampire code?”

“Hardly. Especially after the start we’ve got off to.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Merlin Emrys not making a good first impression? Now that’s unheard of.”

Merlin chuckled, remembering his first encounter with Arthur. “I seem to be losing my charm.”

“Hmm.”

The shift dragged on but then finally Merlin went back to the locker room to change, telling Arthur he’d see him Friday night. He fed from Elyan in the man’s office before heading to Freya’s flat across the city.

Freya had been sleeping and apologised for taking so long answering the door. Merlin told her to go back to bed and stayed up not really watching television until sunrise. Then he climbed into bed next to Freya and went to sleep.

****

 _Him again_ , Merlin thought as he entered the lounge the next night. Balinor was sitting with Edwin and Nimueh on the sofa just inside. Where everyone else was he could only guess.

Merlin nodded at the group as he took a seat nearest the fire. Nimueh turned and smiled at him.

“We were just discussing you.”

Merlin quirked a brow. “Oh?”

“Balinor here was wondering what you and I got up to after our last visit to Alator,” Edwin said.

“That was...” Merlin racked his memory. “Sometime around the American Revolution wasn’t it?”

“A few years before.” Edwin nodded and turned back to Balinor. “He was so eager to fight. Didn’t care what, just wanted something to kill to put his new fighting skills to the test. And all he had was this wee little dirk—”

“It was a gift from my father!” Merlin said defensively. “And that’s not _all_ I had. I obtained other things from when we travelled together.”

Edwin rolled his eyes and was about to say something before Balinor interrupted. “A gift from your father, you said?”

Merlin corrected himself. “Well, my mother gave it to me when I was sixteen. I never knew my father, but she told me that he left it for her, to protect herself. I’ve had it ever since.”

“You never...never knew your father? Your mother never mentioned his name?”

Merlin tried to remember but little details like names from his human memories were always fuzzy. “She might have, but I can’t recall. Most days I don’t even remember her name, to be honest.” Merlin sighed and looked toward the fire. “One day I’ll probably forget for good.”

Nimueh sighed dramatically. “That’s Merlin for you, always brooding and negative. Even after Ar—”

Merlin snapped his head up to glare at her and she thinned her lips into a tight line.

“Even after what?” Balinor asked.

Merlin answered hesitantly. “I...did tell you I was in a relationship. She probably thinks that makes it a bit easier to be around me. Isn’t that right, Nimueh?”

Nimueh nodded. “Yes, exactly. I simply meant that he’s always brooding and negative...even after becoming involved with such a _lovely_ person.”

She practically spat the word and only angered Merlin further. Quiet jealously was one thing, active hostility was another.

Balinor looked a little confused. “It’s not Edwin, then?”

Edwin burst into hysterical laughter and Nimueh followed as soon as she saw the disgusted look on Merlin’s face.

“E-Edwin and I are friends. Long-time friends, yes, but nothing more. And we’ll _never_ be anything more,” Merlin said.

Balinor shifted uncomfortably. “Ah. Forgive me for assuming. Do you mind if—”

“And you, Balinor?” Merlin interrupted. “Morgause mentioned they’d picked up one traveller on the way here. That would be you, correct?”

He nodded. “Yes. I was in New York and ran into them. I remembered Morgause from years ago and after hearing where they were headed and who they planned to see, I asked to join them.”

“Where are they headed, exactly? I know east but...”

“France, Germany, and finally India. The royal coven there seems to be in trouble again.”

Merlin nodded. “They always seem to be in trouble,” he remarked with a wry smile. He’d helped them with a bit of crowd control himself before. They never learned how to feed discreetly and efficiently and had to constantly be reminded.

Balinor smiled too. “Yes, I heard they gifted you with quite a weapon.”

Merlin grinned and thought of the golden weapon fondly. “It was much too grand a gift for what I did, but I’m grateful for their kindness. If only they could put such effort into tactfulness.”

“I’d love to see it sometime.”

“Oh no, don’t get him started,” Edwin lamented. “Merlin loves his little knives as if they’re his children.”

Merlin laughed because it was true. Even though looking at his blades sometimes reminded him of painful memories, he loved to keep them sharp and polished and enjoyed holding their familiar weight in his palm.

Merlin leaned forward excitedly. Perhaps this Balinor wasn’t all bad if he appreciated Merlin’s collection. Arthur didn’t like hearing about them.

“I could bring them in, if you like. I had a beautiful carrying case made for them about ten years ago,” Merlin said.

“That would be wonderful.”

“And I’ve got one blade made from my mother’s bones. It was _very_ hard to make because bone is so—”

Edwin groaned.

****

Merlin didn’t think the night could get any better. He was practically bouncing on the way home and humming a song that he’d heard at some Ireland pub long ago. Then he walked into his flat and his night _did_ get better.

“Is it my birthday already?” he asked upon seeing Arthur laid out on the sofa. He went closer and saw Arthur had two fingers buried in his arse nearly to the second knuckle, pumping and twisting obscenely.

Arthur laughed. “No. I was just waiting for you. You promised, remember? After teasing me with that stupid tongue of yours—”

“You _asked_!”

“—you said you’d fuck me next time. This is next time.”

Merlin took off his clothes in four seconds. “Move over, then,” he said, smiling. “You’re going to ride me.”

Merlin sat on the sofa beside him and Arthur rolled his eyes. “You just like to hear me tire myself out,” he replied as he sat up and swung a leg over Merlin. Merlin applied some of the lube sitting on the table to his cock and stroked it to full hardness.

“Of course I do. Because your heart beating for me is the most beautiful sound in the world.” He trailed a finger down Arthur’s chest and made Arthur shudder. “If you could hear it from my perspective, you’d agree.”

Arthur sank down onto Merlin’s cock with a grunt and Merlin brought his hands up to keep Arthur from falling back. Arthur wrapped his own arms around Merlin’s neck and began to rock back and forth, rolling his hips slowly before working his way up into a more steady rhythm. Arthur clenched around him, seemingly intent to suck Merlin’s orgasm from him as slowly and tortuously as possible. Merlin watched—mesmerised no matter how many times they did this—as Arthur lifted himself only to meet Merlin halfway down on the thrust up.

Licking at the stubbled skin under Arthur’s jaw, Merlin thought, to be fair, everything about Arthur was beautiful. He was warm where Merlin was cold, he was soft where Merlin was hard, and had a healthy heart where Merlin had a dead, useless organ. Sometimes Merlin looked between himself and Arthur and wondered what Arthur could even see in him.

Sometimes, like now, Merlin would put a hand to Arthur’s chest and feel the heart pulsing against his palm through the ribcage. He would gasp for breath but would stop after a while because it sounded too fake to his own ears. In the end he just held Arthur tight and moaned because it was the only way he could show Arthur how good he made him feel.

“Arthur,” Merlin choked out when he felt his orgasm building. He struggled not only to hold off release, but to not grip Arthur too tightly lest he snap a bone.

“Yeah, _fuck_ , Merlin. Oh...okay. Let me just...”

Arthur leaned in to press their bodies closer and Merlin felt the hard weight of Arthur’s cock against his skin between them. Arthur moved quicker, chasing the same feeling of climax that he knew Merlin was so close to as well. Arthur’s breath was ragged and hot in Merlin’s ear, accentuated with whimpers every time Merlin’s cock hit the perfect angle.

And then Arthur’s hands were tight in Merlin’s hair as he gasped, “Merlin, _Merlin_ ” and came. Merlin forced himself not to dig his nails too deep or thrust too hard as he finally peaked too.

Arthur let himself fall forward and rested his head on Merlin’s shoulder while he caught his breath. Arthur was beautiful like this too, wrecked and spent. Merlin couldn’t share this with him either. Instead he curled his fingers in Arthur’s hair and pet him.

“Well, there’s one thing I’ll certainly never get bored of no matter how long I live,” Arthur said into Merlin’s neck.

Merlin laughed and tightened his hold on Arthur’s waist as he stood to take them both to bed.

****

Merlin awoke to the sound of Arthur in the shower. He stretched his limbs, got up, and walked into the loo to join him.

“Hey,” Arthur said and smiled when Merlin stepped under the spray. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Yeah?” Merlin ran his hands down Arthur’s side and gathered soap to put on himself. “Aren’t you always?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “This time I was thinking more about what we’re going to do for the full moon. It’s tonight.”

“Shite.” Merlin had forgotten all about that. Apparently Gwen had as well, because she hadn’t mentioned it.

“You know I can’t control shifting on full moons yet, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Should we stay away from each other, or leave the city? I could go to the pack’s warehouse.”

Merlin frowned and thought while he bathed. He wished Arthur had said something earlier so he could have talked to Gwen about it.

“As far as I know, the coven has only left the lounge to feed. They’re still mostly sitting around catching up on gossip. It might be safe enough for us to just go where we went for my birthday three years ago. Do you remember that?”

“How could I forget? I was so worried it’d come to a fight between you, Leon, and Lancelot.”

“Well...as long as we take separate paths there and back, we should be fine.”

Arthur smiled. “Want to race there?”

Merlin threw his head back and laughed. “Arthur, please. We both know who’ll win.”

****

Merlin won, of course. He almost stopped for a drink, but decided that would just be showing off. Arthur pounced on Merlin the minute he got there, sending Merlin tumbling backwards onto the ground. He barked and licked Merlin’s face in greeting.

“ _Ar_ thur,” Merlin groaned but laughed right after. He pushed Arthur over and climbed on his back. Arthur jumped to his feet and barked over his shoulder.

Merlin laughed again and leaned forward to scratch behind Arthur’s right ear. He felt Arthur’s body vibrate with the sound of his satisfied humming.

Then Arthur suddenly stopped and his ears perked up. His muscles tensed and his fur stood on end.

“What?” Merlin looked around but couldn’t see anything around them, not in the stretch of meadow behind him or the dark forest ahead.

Arthur sniffed the air in front of them and started growling. He crouched on his front paws in a way that made Merlin apprehensive.

Merlin slid off Arthur’s back and walked around to face him. “What is it?” Merlin didn’t hear or smell anything unusual, but Arthur’s nose and ears were better than his in wolf form.

Arthur drew a letter in the dirt. “V.”

Merlin turned to scan the forest Arthur was growling at. He didn’t see anyone but they could have been hiding behind a tree.

What to do? If it was one of Morgause’s coven, he couldn’t confront them smelling like werewolf. If it was one of Bayard’s or Annis’s, they _might_ understand, but most likely they’d try to kill him for being a traitor to their kind. There was a chance whoever it was didn’t recognise Merlin, in which case he and Arthur could run somewhere else. Either way, they’d been spotted together. Either way meant trouble.

Merlin climbed on Arthur’s back and gripped the thick fur of his neck. “Run.” Arthur turned and bolted.

Merlin kept his body down as flat as possible and his eyes trained on the forest to their left. He saw the shadow keeping pace with them between the trees. Arthur was only barely able to keep up with Merlin whenever they raced. With Merlin on his back they didn’t stand a chance.

“The river,” Merlin whispered in Arthur’s ear. Arthur started breathing heavier as he pushed himself harder.

Merlin let go and slid off Arthur’s back as Arthur jumped the river. Just as planned, Arthur didn’t realise until he was already across that Merlin was no longer with him.

“Go find one of Leon’s,” Merlin pointed.

Arthur pawed the ground in frustration. When Merlin didn’t show any signs of changing his mind, his ears drooped and he whined.

Merlin wouldn’t fall for it, not when their lives were at stake. “ _Go_ , Arthur.”

Arthur barked but turned and ran off. As soon as he did, Merlin entered the forest in search of the pursuing vampire with every intention of killing him.

He found him quickly enough. Once Arthur was gone, he hadn’t even tried very hard to hide.

“You!” Merlin exclaimed upon seeing Balinor. “You followed me!”

“The moon is full and...I’d heard there were werewolves in the—”

“You mean you followed me to see I wouldn’t get hurt? I _live_ here, how would you expect—”

“It was foolish, of course, I see that now.”

Merlin narrowed his eyes and took a step forward. “You saw nothing.”

Balinor kept his gaze steady on Merlin. For the first time since they met, Merlin didn’t seem to intimidate him. “I am not Morgause. You can trust me, Merlin.” He held out his hand in offering.

Merlin eyed it warily. “Why are you—”

“I already told you. We have mutual acquaintances. I’ve no hidden motives. Is it really so hard to believe I might want to genuinely be your friend?”

Merlin grasped Balinor’s hand and quickly pulled him forward. “That wolf is very special to me,” he hissed. “If I find out you’ve even _thought_ about hurting him I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

Balinor looked satisfyingly surprised for a moment. “Then he’s...that’s your—”

“Everything.”

Merlin let go of Balinor’s hand and dropped it. Balinor looked thoughtfully in the direction Arthur had taken off. “I see.” After a pause, “I would like to meet him, if that’s alright. I’ve never met a werewolf who was anything but hostile to us.”

Merlin shook his head. “Absolutely not. It’s bad enough you’re here now and some of his scent will have no doubt rubbed off on you. If Morgause even suspects—”

“When they leave, then,” Balinor suggested. “I hadn’t planned on travelling much further with them anyways. I would be honoured to get to know anyone you hold in such high esteem.”

Merlin regarded him curiously. It wasn’t uncommon for Merlin to be shown such respect, especially after his deeds in India and other parts of the world. But Balinor seemed to be going above and beyond such norms. Merlin could tell he was hiding something. There had to be a better reason for his wanting to become friends. Merlin only had to find out.

And what better way than to get the man drunk?

“Perhaps,” Merlin finally said. “For tonight, let’s go get that drink you proposed. I haven’t gotten properly pissed in a while.” Merlin smiled sadly. “I’m sure you’ve met the reason why.”

Balinor nodded. “Yes. Nimueh told me all about it.”

Of course she did. Always one for drama. “Right. Come on, then. Shouldn’t be too hard to find a few people passed out on a Friday night.” Merlin turned and ran towards the city with Balinor behind him.

****

After more than a hundred years, Merlin had forgotten what it was like to be even a little intoxicated. He felt heavy at first, and then light, and then some odd mixture of the two that made walking difficult. He oscillated between giddiness and moroseness, but that was okay because Balinor seemed to do the same. They took turns telling stories and either laughing or consoling the other when they could relate.

Then Balinor said he ought to get back before sunrise and Merlin realised with surprise how late it had gotten. He said goodbye and somehow made it back to his flat.

He struggled with the key. He didn’t have proper control over his strength and kept bending it out of shape so it wouldn’t fit. He could feel his eyelids getting heavy and knew the sun must be close to rising. At least there were no windows in the corridor.

Merlin was just about to slam his fist through the door and open it from the other side when it suddenly swung open and he saw Arthur standing there, shirtless and confused.

“Arthur! Thank goodness.” Merlin stumbled inside and was at the sofa before he realised he wanted to be there. He fell into the cushions and took his shoes off.

“Merlin?” Arthur came and sat next to him. “Are you...?”

Merlin laughed. “I got very very _very_ drunk tonight. With Balinor. He wants to be my friend.”

“What the hell? Who—”

“He was certainly creepy at first. But then. I suppose I had to sort of overlook that. Because he is very humourous. And he _knows_.” Merlin grabbed Arthur’s shoulders and shook him. “Arthur, he _knows_ _things_.”

“Merlin, you’re...” Arthur held Merlin’s wrists and tried pulling them away. “You’re hurting me.”

“Sorry!” Merlin took his hands back. “OH! And he wants to see my daggers. _He_ can appreciate the skill and craftsmanship—”

“Who are you even talking about? You went and got pissed with that vampire who was—”

“No, no, I knew him before.” Merlin said, shaking his head. “He’s one of Morgause’s, but not really. He wants to meet you, too, but...I told him...” Merlin began nodding off.

“Merlin.” Arthur shook him and Merlin’s head snapped up. “What’d you tell him?”

“I told him...not yet. I’m tired.”

Merlin ripped his shirt off and stumbled to his feet to go to bed. He took a step that ended up propelling him all the way to the bedroom, his shoulder catching on the piece of the doorframe on the way. He heard Arthur mumble something behind him but was already half-asleep and falling forward onto the bed.

****

When Merlin woke up, the first thing he noticed was that a piece of the wall was missing. He sat up and scratched his head, then remembered.

“Oh, shite.”

Through the hole he could see some of Arthur’s notebooks laid out. He had probably stayed up studying again, which was why he was still sleeping. He was, in fact, unconsciously curling up and pulling the duvet up over his shoulders. Merlin slid out of bed to let him get warm.

He found more evidence of his state from the previous night in the living room. He had gone straight to ripping his shirt off apparently, because it was easier, and the shredded fabric lay forgotten on the floor. Merlin picked it up with a sigh and went to the kitchen to toss it.

He wondered how long it would be before Arthur woke up and wandered back into the living room to see what Arthur had been working on. He froze when he saw his journal open on the table.

Merlin was at the table in less than a second. Where did Arthur even find this? This wasn’t the journal Arthur had read from before; this was the first he’d ever had, when Alator suggested he keep one and it had only lasted five years. Merlin thought he had stored this safely away in his room at the lounge, but apparently he’d hidden it here in the flat.

Merlin felt a feeling of dread sink over him. If his most recent journal was bad, this one was horrific. He looked at the entry Arthur had turned to and couldn’t even finish reading before he slammed it shut.

_16 November 1735_

_~_

_The French are a very curious people, however Edwin declares there is something to be said about their culture. Here I am to learn how to be charming and charismatic. I told him I was always very amicable as a human, but it seems that means nothing now that I have turned. He says I appear cruel by nature, that people are more inclined to feel intimidated by me. He mentioned too that some mortals, called clairvoyants, are gifted with the ability to see our true form. We cannot hide our eyes and fangs from the especially powerful ones. We already encountered one here in Paris. Edwin would not allow me to kill her slowly, because the area was too crowded and her screams would alert_ —

Merlin would have burned the damned thing if it wasn’t the only link to his past he had. He picked it up and returned to the bedroom to shake Arthur awake.

“Wha—” Arthur rubbed his bleary eyes.

“Where did you find this?” Merlin demanded.

“I...what?” Arthur’s eyes widened when he realised what Merlin was holding. “I just—”

“There is such a thing called _privacy_ , Arthur,” Merlin shouted, shaking the old notebook. “Even mortal couples have boundaries. You are never, _ever,_ to read any of this. Do you understand that? If I leave it open right in front of your face, you will close your eyes until it’s gone. Don’t _ever_ go through my personal things again, Arthur!”

Merlin’s eyes had gone black and Arthur’s heart was racing. Merlin clutched the book to his chest and took a deep breath. “I apologise for shouting. But you can’t just...if it were you, I would never...”

Arthur wet his lips and nodded. “Y-Yeah. I mean. Sorry. I just wanted to know more and I knew you wouldn’t want to tell me.” Arthur frowned. “That sounds really bad out loud. But...it was more like...I know it’s hard for you to talk about so I thought...” He shrugged and lowered his gaze.

Merlin huffed and rolled his eyes. “Why do you think it’s so hard to talk about, Arthur? You’ve seen what’s in here. It’s—I was—” Merlin gave up. “I just don’t want you to think of me like this, okay?” he said, holding up the book.

Arthur gaped and then finally sat up. “I don’t. I think of you how you are _now_ , Merlin. You’re the one that’s always saying not to dwell on things and that our past doesn’t define us.”

Merlin was relieved. “I didn’t think you actually listened to me.”

“ _Mer_ lin.” It was Arthur's turn to roll his eyes. “I always listen to you.”

“Alright. Well.” Merlin went to the drawer with his blades and put the journal on the left, spine up. “Listen to me now, okay? If you want to know something, you should ask.”

“And if it’s something you think I’m better off not knowing?” Arthur replied bitterly. “Like with Alator? What is with that, anyways? It’s not like the government is going to track me down for knowing too much.”

“Fine, fine!” Merlin went back to the bed. “We have all night. What do want to know so badly that you had to go through my personal thoughts?”

Arthur blushed and that really had Merlin interested. “I wanted to know what you were like back when everything was new and...when you were still just getting used to things like I was, with Percival teaching me.”

Arthur looked up and spoke with more confidence as he continued. “I know you said you were like Mordred, but just hearing you say that is nothing compared to actually reading it. It’s like...like Freya said. It’s as if I’m there seeing everything as you did and—”

“Ugh, _Freya_.” Of course she would plant the idea in Arthur’s head.

Arthur got to his feet and went to stand behind Merlin. “Arthur? What are you—” He stopped when Arthur put his arms around him. _Oh._

“Most of the time I don’t know why I do this, Merlin,” Arthur said. “I know that you like it, and I like doing it obviously, but besides the fact that it comforts you, I really don’t know what to think. I thought, maybe, if I knew more about the things you won’t say, that I could understand better. I hate when you get that look in your eyes but don’t tell me what’s really bothering you.”

Merlin would _not_ let Arthur get away with this. He was supposed to be angry with Arthur for invading his privacy. He was supposed to be...

“You’re not going to scare me away, Merlin. We’ve been together three _years_. We’ve talked a thousand times about spending our existence together. If you haven’t figured out that I love you despite everything you’ve done, if you've forgot that I've mated _for life_ , I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Arthur was right, of course. It had been foolish for Merlin to think he could hide every little detail of his past from the person he planned to spend eternity with. He had kept telling himself that he’d tell Arthur everything one day, maybe one day much much later, but had kept putting it off. Maybe Arthur was right to seek out the journal. It was certainly easier than verbally telling him, anyway.

Merlin turned to face him. “Arthur...”

“I admit I was wrong to pry. I _am_ sorry. But...you see why I did it, right?”

Merlin did see. It had been a mixture of curiosity and desire to help. Merlin had to admit, that was Arthur, always trying to help him no matter how undeserving Merlin felt. It wasn’t as if Arthur had done it to gain compromising information. He had done it because he wanted to understand. Merlin couldn’t really fault him for that.

“Yes,” said Merlin finally. “I suppose, if you want to read it...Well, it _was_ a long time ago. The words are hardly relevant now.” Merlin raised a stern finger. “But just the one five-year notebook. None of the others.”

“Fine by me,” Arthur replied, smiling. “More than fine. I was just getting to the part about the faeries.”

Merlin groaned. “ _Faeries_. Don’t remind me.”

Arthur laughed. “You had one make my closet. They can’t be that bad.”

“They’re tricky little monsters. The ones I’ve met anyways.”

Arthur’s brow furrowed. “ _Are_ they little? The one you described was—”

Merlin shook his head. “They can change. I’ll tell you about them some other time.”

“Great, because I’m starving.”

****

A weekend at home away from everyone was just what Merlin needed. He didn’t leave the flat a single time, and Arthur only left once to get groceries. Merlin used the time to forget the visiting coven, strange middle-aged vampires with secrets, and misbehaving vampire children, and just focus on Arthur.

Most of the time Arthur read. If it wasn’t Merlin’s old journal, it was some medical book or other, and Merlin passed the time with his head in Arthur’s lap. Sometimes he put on music, sometimes he stayed in silence, but mostly he just lay there enjoying Arthur’s warmth and the consistency of his heartbeat.

Merlin chose not to go to work on Monday. He reasoned that if Balinor was getting comfortable enough to go into the city to get pissed, the other vampires must be venturing out as well. It would be wise to take a walk around and keep an eye on things, since he couldn’t go to the lounge with Arthur’s scent on him.

Walking around, however, was always a terrible idea, and Merlin instantly regretted the decision. It wasn’t that Merlin was disgusted by humanity; he had come to terms with the fact that they couldn’t help being what they were any more than he could fight the urge to drink blood. And he had long ago stopped thinking of them as simply things to feed from.

It was more that walking among them always made Merlin feel lonely, out of place, and morose. If he could walk the streets with Arthur or Edwin or, hell, now even Balinor, it would make him feel at least somewhat less bitter. He could laugh and joke about the mortals’ blissfully ignorant lives. With nothing but his own thoughts for company he was doomed to—in Nimueh’s words—brood.

So after a short while, Merlin went to a bookshop. He wondered what the literary minds of this era were thinking up now.

Taking a stroll through smelly crowds of humans turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Merlin ran into a vampire from Morgause’s coven in the fantasy section, looking at a paperback. Merlin couldn’t recall his name but remembered admiring the confident way in which he held himself. He had dark blond wavy hair that came down just below his ears, a strong brow, and a firm set mouth.

Merlin chuckled when he saw the cover of the book. “That one any good?” he asked.

The vampire looked up and his mouth tilted in a wry smile. “At least this author doesn’t make us sparkle.”

Laughing again, Merlin took the book and paged through it boredly. “I don’t know. I rather like the idea of having red eyes.”

“And playing with food?” he asked with a raised brow.

Merlin put the book back on the shelf. “You heard about what my son did, then.”

“Your home is large but certainly still small enough that such things become common knowledge.”

Merlin hummed and was thankful Mordred hadn’t at least let slip the most important secret in the coven.

“An unfortunate event, to be sure,” Merlin remarked. “I’m sure Gwen and Edwin have all made perfectly clear what they think of the whole thing. And I admit I didn’t take as much responsibility for his actions as I should have.”

“You are partly to blame, yes, but...Mordred is no newborn. He’s over a century old. There is a time to be resentful of your creator and then there is a time to grow up and make an effort. I can understand he may have been difficult to control at first, probably even unwilling to accept your help. But after the initial moodiness...Well. It was not your responsibility to remind him of anything. If he wanted help he was more than capable of asking.”

Merlin liked this one. “What did you say your name was again?”

The vampire smiled. “Alvarr.” He held out his hand and Merlin shook it. His eyes fixed on something over Merlin’s shoulder and Merlin turned to see what it was.

There was an androgynous teenager dressed in dark clothes, holding a book on divination. Their wide brown eyes were heavily adorned with black eyeliner, and their shaking wrists had leather cuffs and silver bracelets. They were staring at Merlin and Alvarr with their mouth open.

 _They can see us,_ Merlin thought.

Alvarr reached up and retrieved the paperback Merlin had put on the shelf. “I think I’m going to buy this after all.” He cleared his throat. “How does your coven usually deal with clairvoyants?”

“We haven’t had much trouble with them actually. Bayard has. He usually kills them.”

The teenager’s heart raced at hearing Merlin’s words. Alvarr chuckled. “I’ll let you take care of it, then.” He left to purchase the book.

Once alone with them, Merlin took a slow step forward. They flinched but seemed frozen to the spot.

“I’m not going to kill you,” Merlin said. He flicked his eyes around the shop quickly. “Because I can tell you’re smart. You know that nobody will believe you.” He let his gaze fall to the book in the youth’s hands. “This isn’t the first time you’ve seen something either.”

Merlin heard them swallow. He was silently impressed by their ability to speak given their age. “There’s a...a hairy man,” they said. “At my college. A teacher. He...he smells like...trees. Trees and dirt. But nobody else...It’s just me. He has hair all over his face and everything but it’s like nobody else...Please don’t kill me.”

Merlin looked around for Alvarr and saw him walking out. Satisfied they were alone, he took the book from their hands and ripped out the last blank page.

“Hey—”

“You’re going to buy this anyways, yeah?”

They didn’t respond. Merlin went to a table for a pen and wrote his mobile number onto the page. He couldn’t believe he was doing it but...if he couldn’t help Mordred maybe he could help this person make sense of the things they saw around them.

Merlin folded the page with his number and placed it in their hand. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Kelda.”

“Look. Kelda. I wasn’t lying to you. I’m not going to kill you. For some stupid reason, I’m actually going to help you. If you have any questions, you can text me at that number, alright?”

“Text you?” Kelda raised their eyebrows.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “You don’t think vampires are capable of texting? I was there when they _invented_ the concept, you know.”

They actually cracked a smile at that. “Um. Alright.” Their brow furrowed. “If I meet someone else that does want to kill me...can I call you then?”

Merlin internally swore. This was a bad idea. This was a terrible idea that was sure to go wrong and he knew he’d regret it at some point in the near future.

“Alright, fine.”

Kelda, the little goth brat, had the audacity to smile.

****

Merlin went to work on Tuesday and Wednesday night, then back to the lounge on Thursday, bringing his case full of blades with him. Alvarr was on the sofa reading his new book while the only other female vampire of Morgause’s coven knelt between his legs, sucking him off. Edwin was by the fire sharpening his dagger. Nimueh was unbraiding her hair in the sofa opposite Alvarr and the female. Merlin wondered where Balinor was.

He strolled through the dark corridors to his room. It seemed he wasn’t particularly missed. Maybe he didn’t need to make so often an appearance during the coven’s stay after all. Morgause certainly knew any respect he may have had for her was feigned.

Merlin consoled himself with the fact that they’d be gone in just two and a half short weeks. There were only two more times he had to put up with them. Then, once they left...

Merlin felt an odd feeling wash over him. Once they left, he’d agreed to let Balinor meet Arthur. He was partly excited. The fact that Balinor hadn’t lunged right at him was proof enough that not all vampires were as intolerant as he’d pigeonholed them to be. There might be hope for the future. But Merlin was also, as a force of habit, apprehensive. He couldn’t help but feel a bit uneasy about the whole thing.

He sighed and opened his case of knives. The Celtic dagger in particular was looking a bit dull. He hadn’t been able to properly attend to it with Arthur around. He wondered if Arthur ever sharpened his vervain blade. Arthur had once mentioned Percival teaching him how to fight with it but Merlin didn’t know how skilled Arthur was or wasn’t. Maybe one day they could practise together. With normal daggers, of course.

Balinor’s entrance interrupted Merlin’s thoughts. “Found my chambers then, have you?” Merlin remarked with a small grin.

“Edwin directed me.” His eyes lit up when he saw Merlin’s collection and Merlin felt pride swell in him. “Is that it?”

Merlin nodded. “Don’t touch this one,” he said, moving the bone dagger off to the side. “My mother,” he reminded Balinor.

“Of course.” Balinor lightly handled the Indian blade first. “Beautiful. Is it all gold?”

Merlin took it from him and spun it under the dim lighting. “No. Mostly gold, but it has an iron core. These jewels here are sapphires,” he said, indicating the three stones embedded in the hilt. “The Indians were very enamoured of my eyes. Said they were like sapphires that sparkled in the sun.”

Merlin had found the comparison overly poetic. His eyes were a muted blue, if anything. More speckled grey, like a summer storm. It was Arthur, truly, who—

“And this one?” Balinor picked up the standard issue army knife.

Merlin put down the golden dagger and shrugged. “From my time in the war. Nothing special. This one, though...” He selected his father’s dirk that he’d kept through the centuries. “This is the most special of them all besides the bone one.”

Balinor put down the army knife. “The dirk your mother gave you from your father?”

Merlin nodded and pressed the tip into the pad of his thumb, spinning it. “I’ve had it reinforced a few times. It’s more of a letter opener than a blade, but...It’s still very important to me. The first time I killed someone was with this,” he said, looking up.

“Oh?”

“It was only shortly after my mother had given it to me. I heard someone out in our yard and thought...Well, I overreacted. She was very good about it, though.”

“Do you remember her name?”

“Yes. It was Hunith. Hunith Emrys.” Merlin set the dirk down. “I know many others of our kind that have taken different names. When I enlisted in the war a second time I changed my first name. But I always kept Emrys.”

“Was she very pretty? What did she look like?”

“She had light brown hair, and...and freckles. She was always out in the sun. Always smiling. And her eyes were...” Merlin’s brow furrowed. What colour were her eyes? Maybe green, but that didn’t seem right. Blue? Had Merlin inherited his blue eyes from her? Why couldn’t he remember?

 _Fuck, fuck!_ Merlin swore, feeling his throat tighten with emotion. _I can’t cry, not in front of him. I just have to remember. If I could just remember..._

“Merlin?”

Merlin swallowed and pushed down the tears threatening to break free. “Sorry. I, um. I seem to have forgotten. But yes, she was. Very pretty.” _My own mother, and I can’t even remember her. Not the sound of her voice, not the way she smelled after coming in from the garden, and now not even the colour of her eyes..._

“I understand,” Balinor said. “We’ve all lost someone.”

Merlin didn’t raise his eyes, still worried about the emotion that might betray him. “And you? If you don’t mind my asking. Who did you lose?”

Balinor traced the edge of the dirk with the tip of his forefinger as he replied. “My son. I had to watch him die.”

****

The rest of the week was blissfully uneventful, with only a few messages from Kelda to liven things up. Arthur found the idea of Merlin talking to a teenage clairvoyant utterly hilarious for some reason, until Merlin explained that after failing with Mordred he felt he ought to at least try to make it up somehow. Then Arthur was just patronising, calling Kelda his “pet project.” Merlin told him to fuck off, because what he was doing at the hospital was no different.

Arthur was interested in the fact that Kelda’s teacher was a werewolf though. After learning that the teacher’s last name was Williams, Arthur pieced it together and found out it was Leon who apparently taught during the day. With Merlin’s consent, he contacted the Alpha and told him he had a clairvoyant in one of his classes. Leon appreciated the information and said that a few certain events made sense now.

Merlin refused to tell Kelda his name for safety reasons. It was bad enough that Merlin was breaking every vampire code in the book by loving a werewolf. While revealing one’s true nature to a mortal wasn’t unheard of, it was still somewhat frowned upon.

Kelda, however, was young and impressionable. Merlin was sure that if, like Balinor, more people learned to accept certain facts, the world would be a better place. Merlin simply had to mould Kelda into the right sort of person, the kind of person who could make a difference.

Saturday night, Merlin and Arthur went to Camelot, the club Merlin had grown bored of a few years ago and hadn’t been to since. Edwin had deemed it safe enough, saying that most of Morgause’s coven preferred the underground rave spot of the Tomb. Arthur got only semi-drunk as revenge for having to deal with Merlin the week prior and they had a good time overall. The music was loud to their especially heightened ears but they enjoyed themselves nonetheless.

Sunday night Merlin asked what he’d been wondering on Thursday. It turned out that Arthur had had some practise with his weapon, but had spent most of his time with the pack focusing on shifting abilities. Merlin offered to teach him a few things, and instead of being offended like Merlin thought he would be, Arthur was eager to learn. Merlin let Arthur use his old army knife while he took up the dirk. They took breaks for Arthur to eat, use the loo, or sit down and watch television.

When Merlin next went to the lounge on Wednesday, a few of the coven wanted to do pub runs. Enmyria—the female who’d been sucking off Alvarr—as well as Alvarr himself, and Beroun were up for sharing. Merlin knew exactly what sharing entailed though he’d never done it himself. He was shamefully thrilled at the idea but tried to make excuses not to go.

“I’ve already been pissed twice too many times this month,” he lied easily. “You three go and have fun without me.”

Alvarr threw a friendly arm over Merlin’s shoulder. “Don’t tell us Mordred was right after all,” he teased good-naturedly. “Are you really so boring as he says? Or as cynical as Nimueh claims?”

Enmyria smiled deviously. “Edwin told me he knows how to have a good time.”

Merlin deflected. “I simply think it’ll raise less suspicious if they are fewer of us out. And it is only Wednesday. There will be more to go around if I sit out, and less people you’ll have to kill.”

“We don’t mean to get completely sloshed,” Beroun, the youngest of the coven, remarked. “Just a little buzzed, you know? How many was it we were going to take?” he asked Alvarr. “Four?”

Alvarr nodded. “That’s right. A single group. It will appear to be gang violence or whatever the police are calling it these days.”

Merlin hedged. He wanted to go. He missed the excitement of going out to feed with other vampires and he’d never experienced the rumoured bond that formed during sharing. But it also meant bleeding four mortals dry and he knew Arthur wouldn’t like that at all.

He looked round at the expectant faces and caved. When would be the next time he’d have such an opportunity? And Arthur didn’t _have_ know. There were things Merlin felt guilty about and confessed to, but this wasn’t one of them. This sounded like fun. It was only four humans that nobody would really miss anyways.

“Okay.”

Alvarr patted Merlin’s shoulder. “Brilliant! Let’s go round them up and bring them back here.”

****

Merlin seriously wished the the red-headed girl would stop screaming. Her boyfriend was hissing at her to shut up as well. Merlin tried to tune them out and focus on sucking from the neck of the curly-haired brunette. She hadn’t had much to drink so she was mostly just blood. _Her_ boyfriend though was so pissed they hadn’t even had to tie him up. He just passed out.

Merlin and Beroun shared the brunette first. Beroun preferred sucking from just under the breast, almost near the heart, and Merlin closed his eyes as he lost himself to the sensation of the feed. He could feel her blood being pulled in two conflicting directions; up towards the neck where Merlin was and down to her heart where Beroun sucked. Sharing was amazing, even if she didn’t offer much alcohol. She still offered life essence.

Then they switched. Alvarr and Enmyria came over to finish her off while Merlin and Beroun drained her drunk mate. He tasted bitter, nothing like the girl’s smooth blood, but then that often came with alcohol-ridden feeds.

Beroun granted Merlin the last drop of the first kill because he was superior. Merlin made a mental note to be sure and return the favour on the next one.

Alvarr licked his lips with a loud smack as he stood up. “Which do you think has more?” he asked, prodding their tied up victims in the side.

Enmyria sniffed each one in turn. “The girl. Definitely the girl.” The red-head started crying and struggling to get free. All of them heard two hearts start to beat rapidly.

“Ugh, they’re so annoying!” Enmyria kicked the boy and Merlin had to agree as the force broke his ribs and he screamed. “If it didn’t make them taste so bad I’d kill them just to shut them up.”

“Which one’s ours?” Merlin asked Alvarr. “We got the most sober one first last time so—”

“Of course.” Alvarr smiled and waved towards the girl. “She’s all yours.”

Merlin was feeling the effects of the alcohol now. He nudged Beroun and asked, “Is it better from under the breast?”

Beroun made a so-so gesture with his hand. “It’s thicker. Heartier, you know?”

Merlin laughed at the pun. “Alright. You’ve got the neck this time?”

“Sure.”

Merlin walked up to her and straddled her wriggling body to get her to stop moving. That only made her scream louder.

 _Oh my God, shut up,_ Merlin mentally pleaded. He ripped her shirt off and tied the torn fabric around her mouth to at least muffle the sound.

Beroun snorted. “Should have done that ages ago,” he said and bent over her neck. Merlin lifted one of her breasts and sunk his fangs in between her ribs. Enmyria had been spot on about her having more to drink and Beroun had been right about the thick flavour. Merlin sucked greedily, the warm, thick liquid orgasmic as it went down his throat.

The struggling and screaming stopped just as a new presence in the room made Merlin look up. They’d taken their victims to one of the empty chambers of the lounge, one in the less used area near Merlin’s room. Merlin was surprised to see Mordred standing in the doorway.

Mordred took a hesitant step forward. “Can I...?”

Merlin swallowed the blood in his mouth and glanced at Beroun, who nodded. Merlin waved Mordred over and he came quickly.

Mordred went for the girl’s thigh. “Be sure to let Beroun have the last drop,” Merlin said before returning his own teeth to skin. Mordred nodded and closed his eyes. No doubt he was feeling the bond of his first shared feed as well.

When the blood flow thinned, Merlin pulled away. Mordred followed soon after to allow Beroun to finish her.

Then something hit Mordred in the face that made his brow furrow. It was a toe.

Merlin looked over to see Enmyria grinning at them. “Hey little vampling,” she giggled.

Mordred grinned back and snapped off one of the girl’s fingers to flick it back. From there it spiralled into a skirmish of flying fingers, toes, and, occasionally, ears.

Merlin hadn’t had so much fun in a while. He dodged projectiles while simultaneously throwing them, joining in the group’s laughter all the while. It lasted only about half an hour, and it made quite a mess, but it was good fun all the same.

Sitting around, taking in the room strewn with little bones, Merlin asked Mordred if he’d ever made a bone drum. Mordred shook his head and said he hadn’t. It seemed like as good a time as any to show his son that he could, in fact, be a fun person to hang around.

He told Mordred to watch and proceeded to scalp the red-head’s hair from her head so he could remove the skull. It was much less messy than it would have been because they’d already drained her dry. The only thing to be careful with was the brains.

“Who showed you how to do this?” Mordred asked as Merlin carefully snapped the skull from the spinal cord.

“I figured it out myself,” Merlin replied and realised everyone was watching him now too. “Edwin helped the first time. He was the one I first tried it out with. It’s been a while since I’ve done it actually, but...I figure they’re already dead so it can’t hurt.” Merlin didn’t mention the fact that he wouldn’t have done it at all if he weren’t a little buzzed from the spirits.

He scooped the brain out and used the girl’s shirt to clean out the spinal fluid until he was left with just a hollow skull. Setting that aside, he ripped off her jeans and instructed Mordred to help tear off the skin and meat. For once, he listened.

“Oh,” Alvarr said. “I think I see what you’re doing. That’s very clever.”

Merlin had begun feeling guilty thinking of Arthur once the skin started piling up beside him, and tried to let Alvarr’s praise help him continue. He smiled and said, “Thank you.” Alvarr nodded to Enmyria and they set to work stripping down one of the drained males.

“The calf bone works best,” Merlin stated, snapping it off.

“The fibula,” Mordred said. Merlin gave him a curious look and Mordred’s mouth quirked up a bit. “Kara wanted to be a doctor. She…she told me about some of it.”

Merlin felt a pang of sadness and just nodded as he lowered his eyes and set to the other calf. Arthur wanted to be a doctor. Did Mordred know that?

Once both calf bones—or fibulae—were free, Merlin placed the skull in front of him and used them as drumsticks to beat a rhythm. He did a quick demonstration of how tapping at different parts of the skull would produce a different sound and then let Mordred have a go. He perked up instantly.

And then Edwin was in the doorway. “No,” he said incredulously and laughed. “I _thought_ that was a bone drum. Haven’t heard that sound in years.” He laughed again. “I’ve _got_ to have a go at this.”

Merlin chuckled and started removing the skull from the other female. Edwin went for the bones in the forearm. He preferred the sound they made to the ones in the calf.

“What are those called, Mordred?” Merlin asked, nodding to the smaller bones in Edwin’s hands.

“That’s, um.” Mordred chewed his lip in concentration. “Starts with an R.” He mouthed something to himself while pointing to his limbs, clearly recalling some rhyme that helped him remember, and finally smiled when he had it. “Radius.”

By that time Alvarr and Enmyria had also de-skulled their victim. They weren’t as skilled and had taken a while getting the brains out, as well as accidentally cracking the cranium in the process of removing it from the spinal cord.

Eventually they’d made bone drums out of all four skulls and Merlin smiled as they sat in a circle and tapped at each other’s makeshift instruments. He knew it would get boring soon enough, but they were slightly buzzed and happy enough for moment. Merlin pushed away the bitter feeling of what Arthur might think of this and simply let himself enjoy it. He hadn’t had fun with vampires like this in a while.

****

Merlin’s clothes had got more than a little bloody but he already had the perfect excuse for why he was coming home in a different outfit than he left in.

“Had to break up a fight,” he said at Arthur’s appraisal of his wardrobe. The clothing he kept at the lounge was always a bit more formal.

Arthur tilted his head and smiled a little. “But it wasn’t all bad, was it?”

Merlin crossed the room to sit on Arthur’s lap and smiled back. “What makes you say that?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “I’ve only been in near-constant contact with you every day for three years. I know your mannerisms, Merlin. You had a good time, right?”

Merlin nodded.

Arthur trailed a finger over Merlin’s cheek and Merlin felt his intense gaze. “You fed, too. What happened to only feeding from Freya while they were here?”

Centuries’ worth of practise at lying wasn’t for nothing. Merlin raised his eyebrows and smirked. “They honoured me with a gift for allowing them to stay with us. Perks of being second in command, naturally.”

Arthur snorted. “Naturally. Don’t let the power go to your head. _I’m_ in charge around here.”

Merlin laughed and leaned in to kiss him. “Yeah, you wish.”

Arthur chuckled and gifted Merlin his tongue. For the third time that night, Merlin sucked greedily. Only this time they sucked back.

****

Part of Merlin was sad when the coven had to leave. He wouldn’t miss having to spend a night away from Arthur just to hang out at the lounge, but he had made friends of Alvarr, Beroun, and Balinor especially. Merlin wasn’t so naive as to think they’d treat him the same if they found out he was a werewolf-lover, but he’d had fun with them all the same, the sort of fun he couldn’t share with Arthur.

Balinor wasn’t strictly in their group, and Morgause didn’t have any qualms about him staying. Mordred, however, surprised everyone. He asked if he could go with them.

It wasn’t often Merlin felt anything resembling fondness for his creation, but once faced with impending loss he felt it almost instantly. While true they hadn’t become extremely close since Merlin showed him how to make a bone drum, they hadn’t gotten into their usual number of arguments either. Merlin had even considered letting Mordred borrow his old journal once Arthur was done with it, thinking it would help.

Mordred was no longer Merlin’s responsibility though. Morgause was fine with it, even smirked at Merlin since it was clear who his son preferred, but it was up to Gwen in the end. After the initial shock of the request, and a moment’s consideration, Gwen nodded her consent, and Mordred left to gather what little belongings he held dear.

And then, _finally_ , they were gone. Even though their number remained the same, it seemed a bit empty without Mordred. Merlin found himself missing the vampling’s bitter smiles and energetic air, but since Kara’s death he hadn’t been much the same anyways. As soon as the hidden door closed shut behind the last of them, Merlin’s face broke into a wide grin and he felt he could tread less cautiously than he had in weeks.

“I suppose you’ll be wanting to go straight back to Arthur then,” Gwen remarked, amused by Merlin’s expression. Nimueh rolled her eyes and darted back to her room while Edwin left to feed. Balinor stayed respectfully a step behind Merlin.

“If that’s alright, of course,” Merlin said. “It’ll be nice to be able to walk in public without worrying again.”

Gwen raised her brows meaningfully. “You still have to worry about Bayard’s and Annis’s covens, you know.”

Merlin waved it off. “I know. But they stay on the other side of the city for the most part. Now I don’t have to worry about how I smell and who I see…”

Gwen laughed. “Go, Merlin. I’m sure Balinor is getting rather impatient to meet him as well.”

Merlin hugged her briefly. “Thanks, Gwen. Sefa showed you how to work a mobile, right? You’ll call if you need me? I swear if Edwin interrupts me one more time, I’ll—”

“ _Merlin_.”

“Alright, I’m going, I’m going.” Merlin backed away, giggling. “Ready, Balinor?”

Balinor smiled and nodded. “After you.”

****

Balinor wrinkled his nose halfway down the corridor and Merlin immediately apologised. “Sorry. I know it takes some getting used to. I told him to shower but he can sweat something awful and that makes it about ten times—”

“I can hear you, you know,” Arthur’s voice cut in. “And I do _not_.”

Merlin chuckled. “We’re almost there, so open the door, yeah?”

He heard Arthur sigh and walk to the door. By the time they reached it, Arthur had it unlocked and Merlin entered.

“Come in,” Merlin said and Balinor walked in right after.

Looking around, Merlin was grateful Arthur had bothered to clean up. It wasn’t uncommon for them to leave lube laying around, or for Arthur to have some sort of animal bone to nibble on in the kitchen.

It was obvious Balinor was holding his breath from the way he spoke, but Arthur didn’t seem to mind. He probably remembered how overpowering Merlin’s smell was at first as well.

“Hello,” Balinor said and offered his hand. “Balinor.”

“Arthur.” Arthur shook. “Sorry about, um. Growling at you, before,” he added with a blush.

Merlin burst into laughter and didn’t quit even when Arthur hit him. Balinor, at least, had the decency to shrug it off.

“It’s fine. I know your kind is protective. And loyal. I know many that would joke about such characteristics being traits of pet dogs but I’ve always found it admirable.”

Arthur was noticeably impressed and Merlin had to roll his eyes. “Please, Balinor, his ego is big enough already.”

“Why I’m loyal to someone like you, I’ll never understand,” Arthur muttered.

Balinor chuckled this time. “Have you been together long, then?”

Merlin said no at the same time Arthur said yes, so Merlin clarified. “He’s still only, what, fifty-two?” He looked to Arthur for verification, then returned to Balinor. “Three years to him is a long time.”

Balinor looked surprised. “Oh. You’re very young, then,” he directed to Arthur.

“Erm…how old are you?”

“Only about fifty years older than Merlin, actually.” The information was news to Merlin as well.

“That’s…” Arthur did the maths mentally. “Wow. I suppose I’ll just have to get used to everyone being so much older than me.”

“Are you…” Balinor stopped and started again. “Well, never mind. Is it asking too much to see your home?”

Merlin shrugged. “There’s not much, but sure.” He gave Arthur a meaningful look and Arthur went to shut the bedroom door. Merlin rubbed the back of his neck and turned back to Balinor. “You probably don’t want to, uh…The bedroom smells the worst. So, um. Just. Here’s the kitchen.”

Balinor laughed good-naturedly enough and let Merlin go on with the brief tour. Their flat really only consisted of the kitchen, living room, Arthur’s closet, and the bedroom, so Merlin filled in the time with anecdotes about certain things. At the bookcase he told Balinor about his contribution to _Gulliver’s Travels_ and at the coffee table he let Arthur talk about the different things he was studying to become a doctor. They finished at the small circular table in a corner of the kitchen only half an hour later.

“What brings you to the city?” Arthur asked. “Merlin told me you were only travelling with Morgause a little while. I figured you knew ahead of time this was your destination?”

“Yes,” Balinor replied, nodding. “I came to see Merlin actually. I’d heard so much about him from our mutual acquaintances and was very impressed with what they told me.”

The response still irked Merlin, who couldn’t for the life of him think of who their “mutual acquaintances” might be. Balinor was friendly enough, so he had let it slide, but curiosity was getting the better of him by this point.

“I know you’ve been to India,” Merlin began. “But exactly who else has talked about me? I didn’t do much besides fight a losing war in America and even that was nearly two centuries ago.”

Balinor seemed to hesitate. “Do you remember what I told you about how I was born? About my family?”

Merlin’s brow furrowed as he tried to remember. Balinor had told Merlin that he’d accidentally had a biological son with a woman in Wales and left as soon as he heard she was pregnant. He had died and been reborn ten years later and returned briefly out of remorse to make sure she and the child were alright but then left again, since he was never one for settling down. However, Merlin couldn’t see what Balinor’s vampire birth had to do with their mutual acquaintances.

“Yes. But what does that have to—”

“There were some things I left out before. I…I think it’s time for me to elaborate.”

Merlin didn’t very much like the sound of that, or the solemn expression on Balinor’s face that accompanied it.

“You know that I left the woman and child behind in Wales and came back ten years later, after I died. I asked her to let me see the boy, but she wouldn’t let me. She was clairvoyant. She wasn’t so powerful that she could see my true form, but she could sense I was different. She didn’t trust me.

“I gave her a gift, to show her I was sorry and so she could protect herself and the boy. An old dirk my father had passed down to me.”

Beside Merlin, Arthur had stopped breathing and his heart had started pumping quickly. Merlin was fairly certain if his body were capable of it, he would have done the same thing.

“A…a dirk…” Merlin realised that’s why Balinor’s name had sounded familiar. His mother had mentioned his father’s name a few times, only a handful, infrequently enough for it to get lost in the fuzzy haze of human memories.

Balinor nodded and continued. “I kept watch from a distance. I respected her decision and didn’t approach them anymore, no matter how badly I wanted to. I followed my son when he went to London in 1659 and begged my acquaintance Guinevere to befriend him.”

“Gwen…” Merlin whispered. He remembered faintly how they’d met when he was walking late at night in the square. He had always been a friendly person by nature and had politely remarked that a lady shouldn’t be out wandering the streets. They’d struck up a conversation and become friends from there. But the encounter had always seemed coincidental.

“And then the plague hit and everyone began dying,” Balinor went on. “I wished he would get out of the city to escape it. I told Guinevere to urge him to leave. But then…then it was too late. And I couldn’t just watch him die. He was so young…”

Merlin could piece the rest together himself. It seemed Arthur could too, because Merlin felt his hand grip his arm.

“I’m sorry, Merlin,” Balinor said. “You’ve made your feelings towards the person that did this to you perfectly clear, and I know you don’t have a biological child of your own so you can’t possibly understand, but—”

“Get out.” There was more Merlin wanted to say, more he wanted to do, but he tried to let Arthur’s hand on him be an anchor that kept him from overreacting.

Balinor blinked. “I—”

“ _Get. Out._ ”

Merlin couldn’t think with Balinor—his father, his _creator_ —sitting right across from him. He couldn’t fathom the idea that the man who’d been missing his entire childhood had not only made him a creature of the night, but had also shown up and tricked Merlin into befriending him. It was too much to process even for his heightened vampiric intelligence.

“Merlin, please—”

“GET OUT!”

Balinor flinched at the volume that shook even the walls and Arthur gripped Merlin tighter. He’d felt his eyes go black and Arthur’s heart was racing in the way that meant fear.

Balinor looked satisfyingly cowed and stood with his eyes lowered. “Of course. I’m sorry.” He crossed quickly to the door then said over his shoulder, “I suppose you know where to find me if you want to talk.” And then he was gone.

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut and tried to remember the last few years of his human life with the new knowledge that Balinor had been watching. His mother had never said his father had come to visit. He had assumed she’d always had the dirk from when his father left the first time. Was Balinor there when Merlin first used it to kill the intruder at the farm? When he and his mother buried the body?

And how could Gwen not say anything about any of this? She had said she thought of him like a brother. Surely family didn’t keep such secrets from each other. Surely there was more trust…

Merlin felt as though everything was a lie. Everything from the time Balinor visited when he was ten up to now. Was anything in his life not the result of Balinor’s subtle influence?

When the first tears escaped, Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin and Merlin melted into him, letting the sobs break free. At least Arthur was there. At least there was one thing that Merlin would always be sure of.

“Arthur,” he cried into Arthur’s warm chest. “Please…please…” He clutched the fabric of Arthur’s shirt in his fist because he didn’t think he was strong enough to say anything else.

Arthur, thank goodness, tucked his arm under Merlin’s legs and picked him up. His voice was sweet and gentle as he carried Merlin to their room. “I’m here, Merlin. I’ve got you. Everything will be fine.”

Merlin was grateful that Arthur didn’t say everything was okay. Everything was not okay.

****

Merlin didn’t leave the flat for anything. He got a few calls from Gwen—or at least from the mobile he’d given her—but he ignored them. He didn’t go to work. He didn’t even leave to feed and didn’t care enough to ask Freya to come over. Eventually, out of some sort of duty as thrall, she came over to check on him anyway. She was very worried about him.

Arthur was worried too, but could tell that Merlin just needed time and space to deal with things. He held Merlin when Merlin needed him to and whispered soothing consolations when he needed that, but otherwise left him alone. He didn’t demand Merlin try to cheer up and smile because he knew that wouldn’t do any good.

Considering it had been nearly four centuries’ worth of lies, Merlin thought sulking for only about three weeks was well-deserved. He used the time to oscillate between thinking about the past and distracting himself. He read books in French, Chinese, German, and Spanish to make sure he hadn’t forgotten the languages, then decided on a whim to learn Japanese. The characters were nothing like the alphabet in the other languages and it was suitably difficult enough to keep him focused.

But Merlin knew he was putting off the inevitable. He had to confront Balinor—his father—sometime. He knew that flying into a blind rage and simply killing the man that made him what he was couldn’t happen anymore. He’d never even considered the possibility that someone had created him for a reason. But not wanting one’s son to die…Merlin had to admit that was a good enough reason even for him.

What finally did it was when Arthur approached him one night nearly a month after Morgause left, journal in hand.

“I’ve finished it,” Arthur said, putting it down on the table in front of Merlin.

“And?”

“And…I would like to see a faerie one day, even if they are troublemakers. But there’s something else I want to ask first.”

“Yes?”

“The last entry. I noticed it was in late October of 1740, and I remember the first entry of your current journal being in early November of the same year. You had just left France with Edwin to go to Ireland and there was a famine there.”

“Yeah. We…” Merlin recalled the games they’d played hiding infants from their mothers and trying to get decent amounts of blood out of the malnourished denizens. “We were there for Samhain.”

Arthur nodded. “And you kept wondering why you were there if the humans weren’t even good for feeding from. You thought Edwin was searching for someone.”

“Yes…” Merlin didn’t see where Arthur was going with this.

“Well…I don’t remember exactly—it _has_ been a few years since I read that particular entry—but I think you said something about wishing you had someone to search for, too. And look, I know it’s not really my place to say, but maybe that’s what you were to Balinor. You’re his only family and he’s yours, so…I dunno. But I think maybe you should give him a chance?”

Merlin chewed his lip. He knew Arthur was right. He couldn’t deny that. But Merlin didn’t know if he was ready yet.

Arthur, ever-persistent, went on. “I haven’t said anything for almost a month now, Merlin. But after this…” He gestured to the notebook on the table between them. “These are _your_ words. You wanted family. Balinor is your family.”

“Arthur,” Merlin sighed. “He tricked me into becoming friends with him before he even—”

“What would you have done if he hadn’t? You would have got angry with him for leaving you and your mother, right? _And_ for turning you. It makes sense to me why he did it.” Arthur took hold of Merlin’s hand and looked him in the eye. “Sitting around moping and learning Chinese isn’t doing anyone any good.”

“It’s Japanese. I already know Chinese.”

“Ugh, _whatever_. Just go talk to him, for fuck’s sake.”

Merlin stared at the table in contemplation, but for the life of him couldn’t think of a reason why he shouldn’t go talk to his father besides the fact that he just didn’t want to. He sighed again and when he looked up Arthur was already smiling victoriously.

****

Balinor was drinking pre-bottled blood in an armchair when Merlin entered the lounge the next night. Merlin didn’t know how Balinor could stand the stuff. He always preferred his blood warm as opposed to chilled, but that was just another thing that made them different. He wondered if they had anything in common besides a love for a good blade and his mother.

Merlin sat across from him in front of the fire. “Hi,” he said flatly.

Balinor hadn’t looked up when Merlin came in, but he did when Merlin addressed him. “Hello.”

Merlin stared at the fire, wondering how to start, while Balinor drank from his glass bottle. After a while, Balinor said, “They were blue.” Merlin furrowed his brow in confusion. “Hunith’s eyes. They were blue, like yours.”

Merlin felt his throat tighten with emotion and clenched his fists against the onslaught on feelings building up inside him. When he spoke, he knew his voice was harsh, but that was better than weak.

“You shouldn’t have left.”

“I know.” Balinor nodded like he’d come to accept the fact years ago. “I meant what I said though. I was never one for settling down. I don’t stay in one place for very long, even now. It was worse back then. I wasn’t young by any means, but I still wasn’t ready for a child. Believe me, I know it was a cowardly thing to do.”

“And when I went to London? What was your excuse for not approaching me then?”

“Your mother—”

“Was not with me. You could have met me then and she wouldn’t have known.”

“Things weren’t like how they are now. You know that as well as I do. If you promised a woman not to interfere in her family’s life, that was a promise to be respected.”

“And sending Gwen in as a spy isn’t interfering?” Merlin snapped.

Balinor pleaded with his eyes. “I admit it was rather underhanded. But every decision I made then was in your best interest. I wanted to get to know you for so long, Merlin.”

“Why now? Why wait nearly four centuries?”

“I originally planned to wait until Hunith died. But the plague…” Balinor grew sombre. “I didn’t expect you to die first. After I turned you, I knew you wouldn’t return to her as you were. And I felt terribly guilty for what I did to you. I had acted on impulse. So I…I ran away again. By the time I had come to terms with everything I had lost track of both you and Guinevere.”

“You said you’d heard about me, though. What I did in India, in the second World War…It couldn’t have been difficult to find me.”

Balinor swung the empty bottle in his fingers. “Why did you wait a month to come see me after I told you the truth? I needed time to figure out what I would do once I finally met you. When Morgause came through New York I saw it as a perfect opportunity. I could blend in with them, pretend to be a simple traveller and get to know you as a friend first and a father second.”

As much as Merlin didn’t want to see the intelligence in the plan, he did. And Balinor _had_ been a good friend. He had helped keep Merlin’s relationship with Arthur secret and they’d had a good time getting drunk together.

“And there’s…there’s something else,” Balinor continued hesitantly. “Something I’ve wanted to say for a while.”

Merlin raised his eyes, curious. “Yes?”

Balinor’s lips thinned into a tight line as he worked up the confidence to say it. Then it finally came out, strong and clear in the heavy silence between them.

“I’m proud of you, Merlin.”

****

When Merlin came home smiling, Arthur was insufferable.

“See, Merlin, _this_ is why I’m in charge,” he declared. “Aren’t you glad you listened to me?”

Merlin rolled his eyes and kicked off his shoes.

“It did go well, though, yeah?” Arthur asked, putting down his book.

“Yes. I even talked to Gwen and got the truth out of her. _That_ was interesting.”

“How?”

Merlin laughed and sat next to Arthur on the sofa. “Well…let’s just say I haven’t looked at Sefa— _really_ looked at her—in a while. She’s almost twenty now.”

“So?”

“So Gwen was…busy with her when I went to speak to her.”

Arthur’s eyes went wide. “Oh.”

“Yeah. But to be fair, she sent Edwin here while _we_ were busy. At least I was nice enough to let her finish.”

“Merlin!” Arthur was blushing.

Merlin laughed again. “Anyways, yes, everything’s all sorted now. Balinor is going to stay another week or so then move on to Spain for a while.”

“That’s good,” Arthur remarked. “You’ll be going back to work then? Also, I think Kelda is a little worried you haven’t been responding.”

Merlin felt a little stab of guilt for ignoring them. “I suppose I should return to my prior responsibilities.”

Arthur smirked—at Merlin’s slip into formality, no doubt—and checked the time, then scooted a bit closer. “You _have_ been rather remiss in your duties the past few weeks.”

Merlin raised a brow at the tone in Arthur’s voice, then his lips twitched up in a small grin when Arthur leaned in to kiss behind his ear.

“Oh. That.”

Arthur hummed and moved down Merlin’s jaw. “Yes. That.”

Merlin moved his hand up Arthur’s thigh where he felt the blood already filling Arthur’s cock. Arthur gasped appreciatively when Merlin gave it a light squeeze.

“I suppose we should take care of that, then,” he said right before Arthur kissed him.

“I _suppose_ we could have another go at slow and hard.”

“Mmm.”

Merlin felt his own cock twitch with anticipation. He let his eyes close and lost himself in Arthur’s mouth. He opened them again when Arthur had carried him to their room and dropped him on the bed.

“And then we should really get that wall fixed,” he said.


End file.
